Just You
by Akira Ichijouji
Summary: Dib muses about the obsessive, down-spiraling relationship he has with Zim. ZADR, dark, rated for sex and mentions thereof.


**Warnings**: There is sex, and mentions thereof, between two male entities of high school age. And…that would be Zim and Dib. This is definitely not a romantic fic; it's dark, and obsessive, and Dib seems to have come out of it with a masochistic streak. Meh. Not for the kiddies. Oh, and if you flame me, you're just a moron. That's all there is to it.

**Disclaimer**: Invader Zim doesn't belong to me, it belongs to Jhonen Vasquez (who is the coolest thing since sliced bread), and Nickelodeon.

**Just You**

By Akira

          The deep bass of the stereo sent intimate vibrations through the bedframe and into his skin, the music too loud now that they were finished.  The candles had all gone out, though their smell still hung in the air, a thick mixture of artificial scent and cloying smoke.  The ceiling seemed very white and very far away; there was an arm looped possessively around his waist and hips pressed, just as possessive, against his backside.  It was nighttime; a few stars shone faintly through the thick, smoggy city sky, and Dib still wondered what it was like to have sex in space.

          He'd asked this of Zim in the heat of the moment, but it hadn't been the right moment.  Zim had just yanked his arms over his head with two of his mechanical, spider-like appendages and devoured his mouth with an air of possession, desperation; as Dib was pounded into the mattress he could have sworn Zim was panting and growling a rhythmic mantra of "mine, mine, mine, mine, mine."

          Sometimes Dib wondered if it was really him Zim wanted, or if any human conquest would have done to sate the alien's delusional ego.  Perhaps he was just another prize for the fearless Invader, just another triumph of Irken superiority.  But right now it felt good to be conquered, good to be invaded time and time again.

          Mostly it was rough, Zim using the limbs that could rise so obscenely from his back to hold his human motionless and needy while he pounded into that pale body, grinning in triumph as Dib whimpered his name.  But sometimes Zim seemed tired, unwilling to admit to himself that he needed Dib, needed the fragile human body that made him feel worth something in this vast universe.  Then he would be almost gentle, pressing their lips together in a slow, wet, neverending push and pull of tongue and teeth.  It was these times that Zim's luminous eyes were filled with something like loneliness, and something else that seemed almost like sadness, though no tears ever leaked from their corners.  Dib wasn't even sure Irkens _had_ tears. 

It was also these times that Dib wondered somberly of Zim's age.  Zim seemed so young all the time, with his childish taunts and foolish ambition.  Even his height had changed very little over the years; Dib had had a sudden growth spurt the previous year and now Zim barely reached his chin.  Life for a creature from a culture that so valued height on a planet where even the young of the dominant species were taller than he was very vexing for Zim, and it didn't help that he got pushed into lockers at skool because of it.

It was at skool where it all began; hi skool was, if possible, worse than their life in elementary.  There were more kids to taunt them, more kids with more reasons to hate them, exclude them, hurt them.  Dib sometimes got the impression that, after all these years, Zim would forget he was a superior Irken invader when he was being tormented at skool.  He was just another freakish human kid, being slammed into lockers and punched and having his books stolen.  It was times like that that Dib could almost forget all their past grievances and look upon the poor foreign kid with the skin condition with understanding and maybe kinship.

It was a time like that that started it all.

Dib pulled his backpack along the floor of the skool hallway by one strap, his other hand shoved deep in his coat pocket.  The hallways were deserted; he'd just been released from a meaningless detention for a meaningless misbehavior, and he was heading home.

A pounding from one of the lockers caught his attention, and he grimaced.  Who was it this time?  Keef?  The girl with the buck-teeth?  As he neared, a plea began in a voice he knew only too well.

"GIR!  I need your help!  Answer me, GIR!"

Dib could see dents in the front of the locker where Zim had been trying to pound his way out; it hadn't helped, though, because the door had been fastened with a heavy-duty padlock.  Dib knew from experience that the screws were unreachable from the inside of the locker, so there was no way to take the door off from the inside.

The human boy had a sudden, horrible, triumphant urge to walk away.  It would serve Zim right for everything he'd put Dib through.  If he hurried, a representative from Mysterious Mysteries could be there before the night was up.  He'd have his name on the autopsy video.  He'd be famous, and Zim would never bother him again.

A sudden flash of Zim pinned to a surgical table, quivering in terror as a white-masked doctor hovered over him with a scalpel filled Dib's mind's eye, and he suddenly felt sick to his stomach.

"Just hold on," he said calmly, shaking his head and bending over the padlock.  "Just let me figure out the combination."

Zim pounded a fist into the door.  "I know it's you, Dib-human!  I demand that you get me _out of here_!"

"Just _shut up_ and let me work, you ungrateful creature!" Dib yelled, kicking the door, and for once, Zim was quiet.

The padlock wasn't a difficult one to figure out.  His ear to it, Dib listened intently for the clicks that meant he was turning the dial in the right direction, the only other sound Zim's inconstant, ragged breathing.  Soon the padlock came free and the door swung open.

There was a dangerous look around the alien's eyes, and a definite grimace of displeasure around his mouth. 

"Get away from me," he snarled, shoving Dib out of the way, fists clenching, before stalking off down the hallway.

Something snapped inside Dib; it was as if all the pain and torment Zim had put him through had reached a crest.  Rage suddenly filled him with an inevitable violence; he threw himself at Zim, crushing the shorter alien boy up against the lockers.  "It would _kill_ you to be pleasant to anyone, wouldn't it?  It would _kill_ you.  Kill you dead," he growled, his voice lethal.  "I should have just left you there until you _did_ die."

Zim pushed him off with enough strength that he hit the lockers lining the other side of the hallway.  "I don't _need_ your _help_, pitiful human worm!"  Dib was shaking in fury, now, and threw himself at Zim once more. 

Though they'd been deadly enemies for almost seven years it was a very rare thing for Dib and Zim to ever come to blows.  Mind tricks, yes, scheming, yes, spying and setting traps and using technological weapons, yes, but hardly ever this wanton animal violence, never this intensity.

It was an inelegant flurry of punching and kicking, and eventually it was Dib on his back on the floor, Zim straddling his hips with his long fingers around the human boy's neck.  As Dib gasped for air through bruised lips, Zim rocked back slightly to get more leverage so he could push forward with anger-fueled force, when both of them froze.

Dib knew that Zim knew all about human sexuality; he'd had to endure sex ed classes every year since the eighth grade along with the often-times idiotic alien, after all.  Despite this knowledge, however, Dib also knew that Zim was not prepared for the feeling of the unmistakable erection pressed against him.

Dib let out a single, high-pitched whimper, unable to keep his hips from jerking upwards.  It had finally come down to this; Dib had been plagued with terrible thoughts that came to him during the day, terrible dreams that came while he was sleeping, terrible fantasies that inched their way into his late-night desires, arriving unbidden as Dib's hand blurred faster and faster between his own legs.

Zim approaching his prone, captured form, bound naked to a table, caressing him and probing him with instruments of science, poking, prodding, stroking, yes, yes, yes…

Zim has won the planet, become its leader; they are all slaves, Dib especially, bound and captured in the lavish warship belonging to the intrepid invader…Zim pulls him up by his arms which are tied together, throwing him across a table, yanking his pants down to his knees and his shirt up to his chest, so hard, so needy, oh god…

They are fighting, and Zim shoves him down, sinking his teeth into one unprotected human shoulder as Dib squirms, gasps against the weight on top of him, spreads his legs, take me, take me, take me now, Zim…

These fantasies burned against Dib's mind's eye, his glasses hanging crooked on his nose and a line of blood from his lip trailing down his chin.  They stared wide-eyed at each other, Zim's grip on his neck now loose enough for breathing, neither able to move, neither able to talk.  Dib knew he was losing his mind, knew he was fucked up.  Please, Zim, please, Zim, need you, need you now…

"You sick, sick human," Zim muttered as the shock passed.  "What is it?  The pain?"  He dug his fingers into Dib's shoulders until the boy winced, and a triumphant grin beginning to widen on the Irken's face.  "The fact that I've won, that I'm superior, dominant?  Or…" he blinked slowly, eyes narrowing to slits, "is it just me?"

At that, Dib pulled Zim hard against him, catching his lips in a desperate,  feverish kiss.  The human let out a frantic moan, his hips jerking spasmodically against the pressure from above, a whimper escaping him at the answering warmth between Zim's legs, burning him, burning him, at the lizardlike tongue that wrapped around his own and the mouth that seemed to be sucking him dry.

Somehow Dib managed to break away from that horrible, wonderful kiss, his breathing ragged and shallow and not enough.  "We can't, we can't, someone…" he gasped, arching his back, as Zim's hips drove into his, "someone…someone will see…"

But then it didn't matter, because Zim's tongue was in his mouth, drowning his cries and protests, wide purple eyes were staring into his and he was coming, coming in erratic pulses, his mind was blank, he was blank…

After that they went back to Dib's house, where his father was deep in his lab and his sister somewhere he didn't care to know about.  They fucked until neither could move a muscle, and it became a sort of ritual.  It was obsession, pure and simple, aggression turned towards more enjoyable pursuits, hatred hurled into the best sex either of them would ever experience.

Sometimes Dib loved Zim; sometimes he felt a surge of affection when Zim would threaten Earth with certain doom, or give into GIR's erratic wishes, or mumble in his sleep.  Sometimes he'd love him when their sex felt more tender, slower, deeper, hands in hair and lips together.  But that didn't matter.

Dib knew they'd never have a happy ending; Dib had known since he was old enough to know he would _have_ an ending that it wouldn't be a happy one.  Why should the addition of an deranged alien creature he happened to fuck change that?  But something inside of him cried silently, because it wasn't fair…

Someday Zim would leave, or he would leave.  They weren't forever, because no one was forever.

Dib closed his eyes to the darkening room, feeling the arm around his waist tightening, drawing him closer to the small body spooned behind him.  Zim nuzzled his face against the back of his neck, and Dib bit his lip so hard he was sure he'd broken the skin.

_I hate you_, he mouthed. _I hate you so much._

End


End file.
